Set sixteen years after my other story: FaceBrawl, the Smashers set out to train the new generation of fighters, with some results. Contains yaoi. 'Stuff' in later chapters if demand needs. So Read and Review. Still rated T until that day comes.

Toshiro's body twists and turns upon his bed, pillows being thrown off. The Spirit Weapon moans, his body tensing up. He lets out a yelp, biting his lip. Then, he stops. The teen lays upon his bed exhausted as he craws from the covers, moonlight illuminating his pale skin, his growing black hair almost to his ears. He runs a hand over his head, eyes weakly gazing around him. He was alone. Alone, in what were once his and Mazy's shared room.

"Sacrifices…have to be made…" Toshiro sighs to himself, keeping in the tears as he looks towards a framed picture of him and his boyfriend, "…to be happy. I miss you…the old you."

"Isn't that sweet…" a gruff voice echoes through the empty bedroom.

Immediately, the Spirit Weapon readies himself. Though a month has passed, the young man still hasn't gotten used to being alone. He eyes the bedroom with tired, ailing eyes. Nothing.

"Huh, I thought Spirit Weapons had a 'sixth sense' or something…guess I owe Ghirahim a few rupees. But that sum ain't that much compared as to what I'm about to get."

"Who's there?!" Toshiro mumbles harshly.

Toshiro looks at his feet, seeing the floor rippling like water. He steps back as a hooded figure, all dressed in white appears from the floor, as if the ground itself was liquid. The mask it wore only showed its pale eyes, red belts crisscrossing its white tunic covered torso. It takes a moment as the entirety of its body appears. It steps towards the boy, Toshiro shaking in his boy shorts.

"Hehehe…Toshiro. The one seduced by the Demon," the being chuckles in a suave, baritone voice, "My employer said you were a cold, calculating, heartless wretched manwhore…I only see a feminine looking nineteen year old wearing a skimpy outfit just fresh from 'peeling his banana'."

Toshiro looks down at the still visible bulge in his pants and blushes. He covers it with his hands and frowns at the intruder, to find him missing. The Spirit Weapon stands shocked, then nervous as two hands make it to his skinny waist. He groans a little but then stops as the being chuckles behind him.

"You get turned on too easily, boy." The figure laughs before disappearing, then re-appearing in front of Toshiro.

"That selfish, power hungry brat can't lay a finger on me. Besides, I was just teasing before I kill you."

"WHAT?!"

"Yeah, such a shame. My employers wanted me to kill you…because of boyfriend stealing or something…kids these days."

"Eh?"

"But since I'm a gentleman, I'll offer you the choice of death…and my name. I am Trace, a bounty hunter. And I am here to collect the bounty on your head, Toshi."

"Only Vincent can call me 'Toshi'!"

Toshiro tightens his hands into fists and throws a punch at Trace, the bounty hunter disappearing into thin air and re appearing behind the teen. Trace grabs Toshiro by the neck with a white gloved hand and throws him out the window of his ground floor room.

"Let's take this outside…no need for Vinny to hear about all this commotion."

Toshiro gets up from the grass covered back lawn of the Smash Mansion. He stretches out his arms and in his hands appear two glass daggers, both as sharp as scalpels. Trace gets out of the mansion to see Toshiro running at him full speed. The hunter smiles as he disappears into the ground, just as the Spirit Weapon trips into the Mansion, dropping his weapons. Trace re surfaces, grabs Toshiro, and hurls him towards a tree, smacking him into the trunk.

"Now, now. I don't want you to die accidentally. I want you to choose your death. It won't be fun unless you do so."

"Shut up…" Toshiro wheezes out, "If Vincent finds out I'm gone…"

"Psh, as if I care. I just want the money. Whatever happens next will be anyone's problem, but it ain't gonna be mine."

Toshiro growls as Trace comes closer, his masked face almost touching the Spirit Weapon's. The weapon smiles as he swiftly drags his leg across his body, tripping the hunter over. Using the time, Toshiro runs back into the Mansion, desperate to find some protection. Running through the halls and corridors, he comes across a black glossy door. He quickly taps on it. A nervous sweat breaks over Toshiro, eyes glaring behind him as footsteps come closer towards him.

"Vincent!" Toshiro hisses, "Let me in!"

No reply.

"Oh, c'mon...Vincent!"

The footsteps stop.

"Vincent?!"

Still no answer.

"Vi-"

Toshiro is cut off as he feels numbness within his throat. Looking at it, he finds a crimson essence, dripping down his pale body. Trace retracts the glass blades Toshiro handled into his cloak, staring at the boy with pale, cold eyes. The large gash on the boy's neck leaked out massive amounts of blood, yet the Spirit Weapon still stood. He eyes his hunter with complete malice in his eyes, which soon glazes over as he slumps onto the velvet floor of the Mansion. Trace chuckles as he disappears from the scene. Not a minute later, Vincent finally opens the door to his darkened room, grumbling about the lack of sleep. He cautiously steps out, his foot landing on a damp part of carpet. Looking down, the reaper finds Toshiro. Dead.

The next morning with the Smashers, Shinigami looks over his small band of fighters, eyes ever weary. They stand strong and proud as they have been for the past sixteen years. The reaper looks at the crowd and sighs to himself.

"We are now ready to fight," he calls to the Smashers, "Fox and Samus have fixed up the cloning machine to create the army that we need. The Alloys are now at our command. But even an army of mechanical warriors still cannot go against the Silence. We are in need of your help as well. Though we are tired, we can still do this. For a month, the Demon has been roaming This Realm, taking from us, killing us and reviving us without consent. He is too much to handle. He must be destroyed."

At that time, the Incarnates emerge from behind Shinigami, all dressed in their normal clothing. They all look towards their fellow warriors with pride. And still, from behind the Incarnates, within the shadows, a young girl with cloths covering her blind eyes weeps, in her feminine hands a small doll of a teen boy.

"Today we wage war against the Silence, and my Demon Son. Together, we will rise and conquer."

The Smashers all cheer and applaud, as Shinigami raises his hand over them, creating a large enough portal, one where even an entire nation can fit thorough. Behind the Smashers, the entire area of the darkened Realm of Incarnates fills with the mechanical battle cry of millions of Alloys. All Red, Blue, Yellow and Green were ready to fight. As Shinigami gives the signal to march, a cry is heard though the realm.

Everyone stops.

They all look as an electrical field generates itself right in between the Incarnates and the Smashers. As the electricity dissipates, the creature within shrieks in pain. The Silent convulses with agony, its limbs only being held together by mere tendons, its innards flailing about as its torso gushed with alien blood, the gash in the shape of a grisly 'V'. It whimpers as it curls up on the floor of the realm. Shinigami runs up to it, inspecting the creature as it looks up at the Reaper.

"It draws near!" it rasps from its unseen mouth, "It seeks vengeance. It has destroyed us…now it comes for you all."

The Silence dies, Shinigami looking over it sternly. He snaps his fingers and immediately, the body is burnt to ashes. He looks at the armies and stops them in their tracks. He closes the portal, not saying a word. He looks back at the Incarnates, a mild fury within his amber eyes.

"The Silence are dead…"

"Well, isn't that good?" Impa queries the Reaper.

"No…Vincent killed them all."

"Impossible!" Count Bleck screeched, "Not even Vincent could take on an army even half the size of the Silence."

"Unless Vincent is hurt emotionally. He will destroy every single thing in existence now that he is fueled by rage."

"But why is the brat so angry now?" Master Chief growls.

Within the halls of the Mansion, Trace stands alone in a room. He cautiously looks around, until he spots the slight glint of a sword. Underneath his mask, Trace smiles and walks over the wielder of the sword. He outstretches his hand and a large sum of money is placed within it. He weighs the stack of bills and then puts it within his cloak.

"A pleasure doing business with you, Storm Greil."

The hunter disappears into thin air, the girl that hired him smirking in the shadows.

Author's Note: I TOLD YOU STORM WAS PLANNING SOMETHING! D:

Well I killed off the Silence AND Toshiro...guess what happens next? Ahaha. MORE DEATH AND DESTRUCTION! And if Trace gets popular enough, I'll send him into another one of my chapters later...it'll be a BLAST.

Oh, and one last thing...Wolfie...you never told me you were Filipino...because I'm one too! Ahahaha! :3

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